Why is thanks so difficult?
‘I’ll visit her in the evening while you’re away in M.’ ‘Thank you.’ ‘You don’t have to thank me.’ That licks me like a flame. ‘Why not? We’re working as a team to look after Ma and you’re helping me out. You look after her finances and I thank you for doing that too.’ ‘I don’t expect to be thanked.’ ‘Well, I do. I do a lot and I expect to be thanked. What’s the problem with you? Have you got no compassion or empathy? Don’t you see what a burden it is looking after Ma so if anyone does anything for Ma I’m grateful.’ I am shouting down the phone. Spit is going everywhere. I am shaking with rage. ‘I can’t take you shouting at me. It is really terrible to have you do this to me.’’Good bye. Have a great weekend,’ I say, hanging up before he does.
I am furious. Self righteous prig. He won’t be thanked because it is not for me to thank him. He is doing this for his mother, not for me. I want him to accept that he needs to help me. He regards my care of Ma as my choice, my responsibility.